


That Almyran Heat

by Raikishi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Rimming, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi
Summary: “Should I run him through for you?” Byleth offers with the same stoicism she approaches everything.Her scabbard pins Claude’s hand scant inches from Felix’s thigh.Claude drops the date he’d held in his other hand, clutches his heart, faking scandal as he simpers, “Oh what a way to go, my love.”It draws a sliver of a smile from Byleth, the barest ghosting in the corners of her mouth as she knocks his hand aside and sits down with them. Her focus draws over Felix’s skin, slow and lazy in its appraisal.“It’s unlike you to be so unfocused.”“Distracted by good thoughts perhaps?” Claude laughs, a knowing sparkle in his eyes, and damn him for always doing that.The Master Tactician was a curse when they fought on opposite sides and a curse still.Felix grows accustomed to his new life in Almyran. If weren't for the heat.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	That Almyran Heat

The damned Alymran heat is terrible. Sticks to Felix’s throat and skin and drowns him in heated damp. It wraps around his skin like a woolen blanket heavy with sweat, prickling at him until he burned and gasped for air.

He scrambles off the dirt, narrowly dodging a blade. 

The Almryan warrior he is facing laughs uproariously, playfully mocking.

“Afraid of the heat?” the man asks, broad chest slick with sweat as he swings an enormous battle-axe that is still smaller than anything Hilda would swing around.

Felix darts away from its range. Rolling to evade, narrowly catching the blade in his shoulders. 

Felix remembers the man hadn’t been nearly so quick mere minutes ago. He jerks his sword upwards, narrowly blocking the axe coming for his face and with a snarl spins it off-course. He slips the larger man’s guard, driving in close and tight, streaking up his weaker left guard. Felix wicks his blade and presses it tight against the man’s neck in warning.

“Yield,” Felix spits, the feel of the sun against his back making him pant.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guard snorts, pulling away, “Another one for you Fraldarius.”

Behind them, Claude pitches a sharp whistle, high and delighted. 

“Got another one in you Fraldarius?” they both ignore the man cheering behind them as if he were not king but only a simple spectator.

“Always,” Felix grits out the lie. 

His shoulders are aflame. His body feels as it had that day on Grondor when he’d struck out alone, surrounded by battalions. The typical ache of a good match sinking too deep to be any good, setting fanged teeth into the tender bellies of his muscles until he felt rubbed raw. His hands are slick with sweat and his sword grip is unsteady. The training grounds blur before his eyes, made hazy by the heat —

“Felix!” Claude shouts for him, “C’mere.”

Claude winks when Felix turns, a loose smile on his face as he beckons again. Beside him, Byleth is standing up, her gaze knowing as she crosses the grounds to steal his opponent.

“Ah, my lady,” the guard greets her with solemn respect, “It would be my pleasure –“

He barely gets the words out before Byleth is moving on him like a panther. 

Felix watches, half-dazed as she shoves the man back with brute force. She measures out five paces from Felix before she really sinks her teeth into the fight, swinging brutally enough the man stumbles. 

Felix catches her gaze once and he clicks his tongue at the _look_. He is too grown for her silent rebukes and she is Professor no longer. 

“Felix!” Claude calls again and Felix bares his teeth, pretending he does not stomp as he makes his way across the training grounds.

“What?” 

“Sit by me,” Claude pats the cushion, a beatific smile on his face.

Felix tightens his grip on his blade when Claude reaches for it. Immediately - suspiciously so - the man backs off, holding both hands in the air as if they were back in Garreg Mach and he’d been caught sneaking something into Lorenz’s tea stash again. Wearing that shameless smile that’d survived a war and then some.

“Alright, I won’t touch it,” Claude sighs, turning his face with an air of dramaticism, as if he were the main lead in a Mittelfrank opera, “I see I’ve yet to earn the right.”

He glances at Felix from beneath his lashes, a teasing look in his eyes that makes Felix want to swing at him. With a grumble, Felix sits, pointedly avoiding Claude, looking out over the training grounds where Byleth is wreaking havoc. 

He can read a low pleasure in her as she moves about the grounds. Her sword form purposefully sloppy as she draws her opponent in like a siren before snapping on him like a beartrap. Byleth moves as if she were in the war still, her reach with a regular sword nearly as long as the Sword of the Creator. 

_“I’m a mercenary,” she tells him the day she asks him to join her in Almyra, “I always will be. Even if I’m in a gilded palace surrounded by nobles.”_

_She tips her head at Dimitri. At a risen king. And looks back at Felix, her expression patient as it had always been as she followed after Dimitri in the height of his madness._

_“And you’ll be Fargheus-born and stupidly loyal even if you do not stay.”_

_Byleth takes Felix’s hand as the familiar guilt trips his pulse and slows his feet, her hand gentle but firm as she guides him forward, drawing him towards the waiting wyverns, “Come with me.”_

Felix nearly bites through his tongue when Claude touches him. The king’s hand is cool over his forehead, chilled by the wine he’d been holding. Something presses against Felix’s mouth and his teeth clip on Claude’s index finger when he parts his mouth in surprise. It turns out to be a piece of dried fruit, a mango of some sort, chilled and subtly sweet on his tongue. Felix opens his mouth in a question and Claude pops something else between his lips. Yet another Alymran fruit soaked in expensive wine, the subtle sweet slaking his thirst.

Felix snatches the goblet from Claude’s hand before Claude can feed him that too, skin prickling with awareness as he looks back on the training grounds. Daring someone to look their way. Anyone.

No one does. Their focus is on Byleth still as she fells another opponent. 

But Felix has no delusions about an Alymran court. There are eyes and ears everywhere. Whispers about everything. The king with his father’s proclivities. With his filthy half-blood and Fodlan _pets_. The questions over his right to rule.

Something cool and damp sweeps over Felix’s temple and he ignores it at first, thinking it an attendant in the king’s tents. But the cloth drifts over his cheeks, smoothes over his jawline and throat in slow intimate strokes. A hand lifts his hair aside, cloth trailing over the back of his neck and then slowly down his spine. 

A kiss drops over his neck. A there and gone hint of intimacy that makes Felix snap on the other man, hand moving for his sword only to find it gone.

Claude winks at him, laughing as Felix snatches the cloth away. Claude leans back, body angled so that Felix gets a glimpse of his sword tucked neatly away beside Claude’s thigh.

Schemer by trade.

“You’re going to burn terribly,” Claude says with an easy smile, pouring himself another goblet of wine. His green eyes follow Felix’s hands with interest, tracing the cloth over Felix’s chest and down his belly, lingering hungrily at his crotch as if he could will an erection to rise with his gaze alone, “If you ask nicely, I’ll put some ointment on your back.”

“To the fires with you von Reigan,” Felix says, hunching his shoulders, pretending his body does not perk in interest at the thought. 

It only earns him a laugh as Claude claims the cloth from him once more, dips it in a chilled basin, and then carries out another run over his shoulders and chest. 

Felix’s tongue goes loose and stupid, too big and caught in his mouth, stalling on words as Claude pinches a nipple through the cloth shamelessly.

“I’m going to spear you,” Felix snarls, his voice pitched low and dangerous when he, at last, finds it again, the threat seething between teeth as he crushes Claude’s wandering hand against his chest.

“Oh?” verdant green eyes lift, the sunlight over thick foliage, as Claude leans into him, “A promise?”

And the heat is back. Sticky in Felix’s throat. Hot on his face. The sun hanging low over his very person, threatening to swallow him up.

Claude must see something of it on his face, smile going loose and easy and _smug_ in a way that makes Felix want to take up his blade or spread his legs. He flinches at the thought, hiding his face in the wide brim of the goblet. Embarrassment and desire a thick heady roil in his belly as he turns his burning face away. 

The heat was to blame. Even here in the king’s tent, there was no reprieve from the damned Almyran sun.

Claude hums, something knowing in his tone as he allows Felix to look away from him, attention drifting off Felix’s face over the grounds to where Byleth was felling yet another opponent. He whistles low and full of approval and when Felix dares to look again, he sees the same besotted half-lidded gaze that’d been Claude’s constant back in their Garreg Mach days. The same one that’d followed Byleth’s back, burned holes between her shoulder blades.

_“You should have chosen the Golden Deer,” Claude tells her at Deirdru, surrounded by waves, his skin and face golden in the fading sun._

_It’s spoken as a joke at first, casual enough the others turn away. Sylvain with a hearty laugh and Ingrid shaking her head. Dimitri with a little sigh, attention caught by his troops._

_So no one sees._

_No one bears witness but Felix._

_“I wish you’d chosen me,” dropped like a woman’s loose earring, unseen and unnoticed._

_Claude kisses her the moment everyone turns away or Byleth kisses him. It’d been impossible to tell. They’d come together so quick and urgent, two people snared by one moment of fraught vulnerability. Byleth’s grip settles in Claude’s hair, her knuckles white around his dark locks as she holds him in place. The Sword of the Creator digs into his back, locking him against her as if she’d never wanted him to leave._

_As if the Professor had ever craved anything._

_They separate without lingering, strategists first and foremost, two people grounded in logic. Claude says nothing more as he lets her walk away, doesn’t even let his expression waver as she goes after another king._

_“Felix,” Claude nods, a winsome smile on his face as if he could earn himself a favor from a man he’d only aggravated back in their boyhood days._

_“As if I have nothing better to do than to gossip,” Felix snarls, ignoring the quick trip of his heart, blinding himself to the blurt of unsteady arousal roaring in his veins._

_“I see.”_

_Terrifying two words. Claude looks at him like a puzzle half solved. One of those wooden logic puzzles Sylvain had fancied as a child with an unexpected golden reward at the center. The same surprise in those green eyes, a joyful astonishment as if Claude had come upon a fortuitous treat._

_“I get it. You too,” he says with a slow grin that is sharp around the corners and Felix is grabbing for his sword in warning, embarrassment burning his skin as his long-held secret falls from his grasps._

_Claude only catches the hilt, silences the shriek of metal against scabbard, his eyes brilliant as gems beneath the sunset. He wears a smile that lures like fae beings._

_“I thought the same about you, y’know,” Claude tells him like a secret, a whisper against Felix’s mouth as Claude looks him over, “All that loyalty. All that dedication. Wanted to see where it fell.”_

_“What the hell?”_

_Claude smiles, his expression too knowing and a little too greedy. All-consuming in its intensity, “Wondered if it could somehow come my way too.”_

_Lust falling on slow appraisal, tiles on clay over a sturdy roof as his resolve forms. Claude makes a noise like a purr, one of Sylvain’s moves against a woman and while it’d sounded seedy in those times, Felix understands the way those many maidens had wavered under all that attention. All that focus. That intent –_

“Should I run him through for you?” Byleth offers with the same stoicism she approaches everything. 

Her scabbard pins Claude’s hand scant inches from Felix’s thigh. 

Claude drops the date he’d held in his other hand, clutches his heart, faking scandal as he simpers, “Oh what a way to go, my love.”

It draws a sliver of a smile from Byleth, the barest ghosting in the corners of her mouth as she knocks his hand aside and sits down with them. Her focus draws over Felix’s skin, slow and lazy in its appraisal. 

“It’s unlike you to be so unfocused.”

“Distracted by good thoughts perhaps?” Claude laughs, a knowing sparkle in his eyes, and damn him for always doing that. 

The Master Tactician was a curse when they fought on opposite sides and a curse still.

Felix growls at him fighting away another wandering hand from his nipples, trying to work an effective snarl into his voice, “There are people around.”

Two pairs of eyes stare at him in surprise and he does not have to turn to know he is wrong. The attendants are no longer in the tent. The grounds have fallen silent. Embarrassment sizzles his head and he tries to hide his face. 

He startles when Byleth touches her hand to his forehead, her palm blissfully cool against his skin.

“We should take you out of the sun,” she says, the barest dip in her voice betraying her concern. She takes the goblet from his hands and while he is distracted by her pouring out another jug Claude snatches him up. 

Felix bites down on a yelp as he is picked from his seat like a plucked flower. Claude’s arms sliding under his thighs and ass, yanking him onto solid thighs. Felix forgets sometimes that Claude is no longer the scrawny thing he’d been back in their Garreg Mach days. The one who’d left the heavy lifting to Hilda and struggled with the training weights. That Claude fought with a bow that weighed as much as a man. That years of wyvern riding have built dense muscle and hard thighs.

Felix flushes deep, arousal thrumming in his chest as he grabs a fistful of Claude’s shirt to hold himself steady. 

“It’s damnably hot,” Felix says, snatching on the excuse, forcing himself into an old complaint, “How you live like this I’ll never understand.”

He clicks his teeth together against the brim of another goblet and he closes his mouth stubbornly, refusing to be fed. 

“It’ll help,” Claude assures him and then wiggles his brows with a salacious grin, “Or I could get the ointment …any excuse to get my hands on you, huh Felix?”

Felix takes a tiny sip from Byleth’s offered cup just to make a point and Claude pouts at him for it. 

The drink does help. Something sweet and citrusy in the goblet, soothing as it goes down Felix’s throat, washing away the desert dry rasp. Dimly, he registers Byleth loosening his hair from its already ragged ties, hissing a little protest as his hair falls in a curtain over his neck, trapping in the heat against his skin. Her lips press against his neck in a silent apology before she starts to braid it back. 

She did that often. Most often with Claude and particularly after sex when they, all three, were laid bare and left idle. She’d take a few too-long locks and twine together into some semblance of his boyhood braid and he’d query in that sweetly teasing tone if she’d adored him so much back then. 

He’d earned a smack for it last time when he’d squeezed his tits together and asked for a better grade, _I’ll do_ anything _, Professor_ and Felix –

“You’re still quite red,” Byleth touches his head, offering him the goblet again and he takes it hurriedly, hiding his face in the wide brim.

Claude looks at him with something shrewd and too calculating. Felix burns when he feels the man grope his ass. He is suddenly keenly aware of the distance between them. Of his legs spread around Claude’s hips. Of Byleth behind him, her breasts at his back. He spies the look shared between the two of them, something amused and full of anticipation shared by twin conspirators. 

“What?” and promptly grimaces at the brusque sound of his own voice.

Byleth only shakes her head as she rises. Suspicious, Felix tracks her movement, only vaguely registering Claude stealing a sip from his goblet. Byleth rearranges the ties of the tent, letting the top come further over them, blocking off the worse of the sun’s rays. The shadows bring a blessed cool and air passes through Felix’s lungs a little easier.

He parts his mouth –

“Mmph!” 

Claude’s lips close over his, dexterous tongue slipping between Felix’s lips, passing drink through the kiss in one great gulp. Felix swallows reflexively, stunned and unable to react otherwise. He muffles another shout into the kiss, his hips jerking forward as Claude’s clever tongue sweeps his mouth, chasing after the subtle notes that lingered behind. 

Claude kisses like a man made to conquer. Full of devious tricks and eager licks, seeking out each corner of Felix’s mouth until there was little to do but to relent –

Someone grabs his ass. Or both of them. It suddenly doesn’t matter. 

He feels Claude hitch his hips with two strong arms and rock him forward, grinding him into Claude’s lap, erection rubbing firmly against the swell of Felix’s ass. The thin silks do little to hide the sensation and Felix squirms, his own pants pulling as his cock responds in kind. 

His entire body goes hot like a match struck alight. The heat comes over him again and it is different this time. Slicker and headier. Full of promise instead of oppressive and cloying. It runs over his skin like a flame, drawing a whine from somewhere deep inside him as he lets himself rut against Claude.

_“Come with me,” Byleth says and he goes without complaint._

_Turns a blind eye to the sad guilt in Dimitri’s eye. Ignores how it tugs at him, pulling him in too many directions for him to try and parse apart._

_“Come,” Byleth says and the words alone drown out the messiness of his mind, soothes the frenetic pulse of his thoughts like a balm._

_She fucks him that night in the desert wilds, halfway to Almyra as the sun had set over them. Sank down on the length of his cock, rode him like a stallion to be broken in._

_“Come,” she orders and he’d obeyed yet again._

_Let her wring him dry and swallow his screams under the scorching rays of a new world._

_It had felt like salvation. A cleansing heat that tore him to nothing and brought him out whole in a different light._

“Ouch,” Claude whines at him, expression turned comically downwards as he pulls back, one hand to his lip, “Felix …”

“You deserved everything coming to you,” Felix snaps at him in sharp contrast to the way he grabs at Claude’s shirt, yanking it apart as need and hungry desperation stir in his blood. He bares his teeth as if ready to bite again. 

_He’s in the king’s tent alone with Claude for the first time, a hand to his mouth, muffling away the groans as clever fingers scissor him open._

_“Did you come to see me?” Claude asks, sounding delighted, breathless with something like joy and Felix does not know how to take that. Thankfully he doesn’t have to think on it as Claude’s fingers rub over his prostate, stirring a pleasure that makes Felix want to wail._

_Claude turns him onto his back. Looks him full in the eye as he fucks into him, the brilliant green of them shining, watching for every twitch, every tell. Seeing Felix and only him and wanting only more. Undeterred even as Felix yanks at Claude’s hair, trying to urge him faster. To fuck harder._

_“That’s great,” Claude says conversationally, undeterred and steadfast, the same steady man who’d waited for a Goddess._

_He fucks Felix as if he’d had all the time in the world. Wrings out every scream and groan, eyes like a hawk on Felix as he’d rocked out of him like a steady metronome and held a full conversation as if they’d been in open court. None of it had kept Claude from cataloging Felix’s moans, reactions, and desperate gasps until Claude had filed a little manual for another man’s body to be abused weeks later._

_The fight of gone out of Felix in a different way. Blown out like a candle burned too bright and too hard._

_Set aflame like a sacrifice on a pyre, slick with sweat, and broken to pieces. Taken down to the core of himself under a merciless Almyran sun that’d kissed his throat and chest as an equally merciless Almyran king kissed lower and sucked pleasure from his cock until he’d burned with oversensitivity._

“Mmm, you think?” Claude asks, twisting a nipple hard, his eyes going dark and shuttering as Felix hiccups a gasp. That same hatefully enticing gaze before he set Felix to a bed and toyed with him until Felix knew nothing of his own name.

“Boys,” Byleth catches Felix’s hands before he can claw at Claude’s shoulders, her eyes twinkling as she presses a kiss to his fingers, “Behave.”

She grabs a handful of Felix’s ass and he swallows a whine, trembling with need already. He parts his mouth without thinking as Byleth dips her head. Felix growls when she kisses his jawline. Louder when she angles the second at his chin. Cuffs her lightly and slots her mouth solidly against his when she angles for the corners. 

“Eager,” she accuses, her giggle tickling his lips as she, at last, takes him for a kiss that makes him quiver. 

He feels his pants being loosened, the front knots falling loose and open and the hem digging around his hips as they dip downwards. He arches his hips mindlessly, a whine caught high in his throat when Byleth’s hands slide into his pants. Her fingers press between his cheeks, slick and messy, rubbing against his hole, teasing the rim no matter how he squirmed and toying only with the hatefully sensitive edge until he snarls at her.

“You two bastards,” he growls, cutting himself off to shimmy out of the rest of his pants, rocking down hard on Claude’s clothed cock just to see the frisson of heat in the king’s gaze. He shoves into Byleth’s hold as he spreads his legs before Claude, presenting himself like a picture ~~or an over-eager slut~~ , “I’d be better off in Faerghus.”

Byleth’s hands tighten over his waist and his mouth waters at the possessiveness in her eyes. 

In contrast, Claude goes still, his gaze cautious and measured. 

Mercenary greed and noble greed, laid side by side. 

“Would you?” Byleth’s voice is soft, the emotion in them twisted up. Barely tempered glass ready to shatter.

Claude kisses the inside of his thigh, green eyes calculating as he rolls the words over. Something of a pout turning his mouth and his expression sour. 

Felix cocks a razor grin at them, a rush in his blood as if he were taking on battalions on is own again. He spits in his own hand, gripping his cock and stroking slowly, stretching out before their gaze, blood pumping at the thought of them hanging on his words instead of the other way round.

“Didn’t like that did you?” he snorts, aiming for a sneer that wobbles at the edges as he teases the crown of his cock. He fucks his hips in a fast staccato rhythm into his fist, at odds with how they liked him best. Teased slow and easy. 

Byleth’s grip on his hip turns nearly bruising as he goes faster. There’s a low growl at the base of her throat, snares on her lips the same way she’d sounded the first time he’d managed a victory against her. 

Her other hand settles on the inside of his thigh as he spreads his legs wider. He can feel the slow track of her teeth against his shoulder, knows she’s itching to bite. To mark him for her own. 

He lets his other hand trail to his ass. He licks his lips as he watches Claude track the motion with a hunter’s eyes. Felix is messy and slick from Byleth’s tease, aware of the sheen and slow drip of oil down the back of his thighs. Knows the pretty little picture he presents. He fucks two fingers into himself roughly using the oil smeared over him, spreading them inside himself before Claude’s hungry gaze.

“Prove me wrong.”

Byleth moves first. Her hands close over his, like shackles as she bends him backward over her thigh. Felix yelps as she leans over him, stomach twitching at the press of her tits against his bare belly, shout shattering into a deep groan as she swallows down his cock. He feels Claude pull his legs further apart, feels the man dip forward, and then writhes on a wail as Claude slips his tongue inside him. 

Need and desperate want shatter over him in a starburst of urgency as he chokes on a gargled moan, his hands clawing at the silk cushion nearby, needing something to grab, needing an anchor. He turns his face to the sun and wails as Byleth hollows her cheeks at the same time Claude slides a finger into him. A dexterous tongue swirls over the tight squeeze of Felix’s hole, licking a sloppy outline around the singular digit and it’s too much too quickly. He rocks against the two of them, fucking frantically into the delicious heat of Byleth’s mouth and then back against Claude’s clever mouth, moans dripping off his tongue like honeyed mead. He’s left dizzy and breathless, incapable of knowing where to go. Wanting more. Wanting both. Craving and craving freely. Left free to chase after want and need. 

He babbles something he thinks should be embarrassing when they set him upright and hides his humiliation in Byleth’s mouth. He licks himself from her mouth, cleaning her up, sucking the salt bitter tang of himself from her tongue, his moans clattering against her teeth as Claude sucks and licks at him until he’s wet and loose enough he’s certain they could fit a fist in him if they wanted.

With a groan, Felix chases after Claude next, wrestles him away from between his legs and swallows away Claude’s incredulous laugh, nipping at his bottom lip when Claude chooses that very moment to add another finger. He fights like a hellcat as Claude tries to pin him down, sinking his hands into Claude’s hair and yanking hard in order to delve into the king’s mouth, intent on conquering this time, on guiding the –

A bright blurt of t _oo-much!_ burns over Felix’s skin, fiery liquid pooling low in his belly. His cock bounces against his stomach, one great sway he feels in one sharp current down his entire body, the tip leaking steadily. 

He chokes on a gasp, head swimming as Claude’s fingers batter against his prostate. Claude smirks as he swallows down Felix’s whimper, fucking Felix with his tongue as eagerly as he’d eaten him out. 

Felix tears away with a mangled gasp. The tent spinning before his eyes, surroundings made hazy by the heat. It doesn’t stop Claude. Another digit works into Felix’s hole. The stretch so wondrously _good_ he bucks like a bought whore desperate to earn his pay. Greedy hunger in Felix’s mouth like a sticky bun as he’s fucked deep.

He’s shared between them. Kissed eagerly like a favorite until he cannot tell who is in his mouth and who is marking a bruise onto his skin. Knows he only wants more and more –

Felix chokes on a hoarse cry when Claude rubs his prostate again, tearing away from their mouths, burying his face into Byleth’s throat, hiding a gasp against the column of her neck as sensitivity rakes over his spine like heated pokers. Embers crackle beneath his skin, making him twitchy and desperate.

“Enough,” he grits out, shaking and out of his mind against her front and burns with jagged humiliation when they chuckle at him.

“You asked us to prove you wrong,” Byleth reminds him and it sounds dangerous. As if he’s been caught on the training grounds when he was meant to be asleep or he’d whipped out his sword instead of Thoron as he should have the week he was meant to train to Reason. 

No mercy to be found. 

He’d played with fire and now it meant to consume him. He smells the smoke curl of her Crest, shouting as she slots her mouth over his nipple, heat like the sun shaking his body.

Fingers rake over his prostate again. Purposeful. Intent. Bearing down hard enough to hurt and he wails as if he is in the desert again with no one to hear him. 

“F-fuck, please,” he sobs against Byleth’s chest, biting the top of her breast vengefully when she only hums. 

Claude’s mouth moves over his ass again. Claude removes all but one finger and stroking his tongue in deep enough his nose bumps up against Felix’s balls. A lewd slurp hits the air and Felix burns, shying away from the noises, busying his mouth with Byleth’s breasts because otherwise he’d be pleading and he has no guard against their mischief when his mind was falling to pieces. 

He zones in on Byleth’s sighs, follows the shiver that creeps up her spine with his fingers, his own hands wandering between her legs. She groans, the sound full-bodied as he slips between her cunt, the two of them shivering at the feel. She’s wet already and he is more than willing to get her closer, urge her higher, tilt her sweetly over. Felix cringes, hands going slow and stupid as Claude batters his prostate again. 

Dexterous fingers fuck Felix in a steady rhythm that had him clenching back, knees spread wide apart, entire body thrumming. His cock twitches, wetting his thighs with precum, soaking the cushion beneath his hip through.

Felix feels Byleth run down his body. Feels her fingers join Claude’s, uttering a shout as they finger him together, passing them between the two of them the same way they’d kissed him. The sight of them in him at the same time making his quiver and ache, want to squirm away from the too much sensation that crept over his back and hips. As if they would allow him. 

He snatches their exchanged grin from the air between them in his delirium, fuzzily aware of the wicked smirk as they come over him as twin strategists over a war map to be broken apart. Tearing down at the rough barriers and high walls, grinding them to dust beneath their dexterous fingers to the very core of him until he was laid bare and trembling and _vulnerable._

“Look at me,” Claude tells him and Felix blinks away his blurry vision, focus sharp on Claude’s hands, biting his lip as Claude removes his pants and palms himself. 

Felix’s mouth waters as the blunt cock head nudges against his rim.

“Yes, yes,” Felix hears himself beg in a reedy whisper, grasping for Claude’s fingers, sucking them into his mouth as he hitches his hips against Claude, trying to fuck himself on the offered cock.

“That’s it, keep your focus right here,” Claude whispers, and Felix watches, unable to look away as Claude’s cock slides into him inch by excruciating inch.

The stretch makes his legs weak, drops them off Claude’s thighs as his focus narrows on the cock inside him. Claude is hot and thick, cockhead bumping the sensitive core of him at a snail’s pace as if Claude were on a scouting mission, intent on mapping out each sensitivity, each weakness. Hands grip Felix’s hip, hiking him upwards, guiding in slow steady waves against Claude’s cock until Felix is clawing at Byleth’s back and shoulders. 

The heat in his blood sets him at a boil, a red rose blush dusting his chest and Claude snaps his fingers in front of Felix’s eyes.

“Look.”

“I fucking am,” Felix slurs, and Byleth kisses the back of his head affectionately, almost like a reward. Does it again at the base of his neck and he feels her smile growing over his skin. 

“Good,” Claude nods, his hips moving in a delicious sinuous roll that makes Felix’s jaw slacken and his lashes flutter, “Just like that – right here with me aren’t you?”

Felix blinks, realization rocking him and he works up a sneer, trying for bravado that wavers and drops off completely when Byleth grips his cock. 

“Ha – put your back into it - get me really present,” Felix snipes, though the words wobble around the edges as Byleth’s fingers rub hard over the head of his cock, slimy and slick with oil, stroking him from root to tip, the circle of her fingers shaping a tight perfect space he fucks desperately into. Moans slurring off his tongue as he rocks between king and Goddess. 

Claude’s eyes go hard. The green in them swallowed up by the pupil. A dark eagerness settling over his shoulders. The same fiery gaze that’d lit Felix’s nerves when he’d first arrived at an Almyran court.

_“Did you come just for me?” Claude asks leaning in close._

_Always so mindlessly intrusive of another’s space, as if he knew that that worked better than anything to keep others away from him. Now though … the look is different. Felix wonders if this is what Byleth sees each time Claude looks at her. If that eagerness alights his eyes and sets her ablaze as it does Felix. She nudges him, her rare smile radiant on her face and Felix thinks perhaps she does._

_“Sure,” Felix says, the closest he’ll allow to the truth, leaning firmly against Byleth as they are welcomed into Claude’s court._

Byleth twists one of Felix’s arms around his back, sets him at an arch as if he were a meal offering that Claude accepts readily, mouth searing and wet over a nipple, biting then sucking, teasing until Felix melts away, pleasure shaking every muscle of his body. Particularly as Claude twists his hips, fucking hard into him and grinding against him at an angle that makes him shake. Verdant green glimmers at him, as Claude draws Felix up with his hands, hoisting him over his cock as if he were swinging Failnaught – and _damned_ , Felix keeps forgetting what it takes to manage to sling those massive oaken bows, to pull and manipulate them until the strings sang like a musical lute.

Keeps forgetting Claude knows to play a body in the same manner.

“Fuck!” Felix’s hips lurch forward, nearly toppling them were it not for Byleth’s grip around his cock, her teeth over his shoulder.

He feels fire from her mouth. The Crest of Flames on her tongue as she stiffens behind him, her touch going unsteady. Greedy. Her hands stroke over him, teasing at first over his nipples and then merciless. Twisting a scream from his throat, desire raking down his spine in one great crackle of lightning. Thoron singing in his veins again.

“Hold him steady for me, my love,” Claude pants tipping him forward, lowering Felix against Byleth’s chest. A wolfish grin spreads the man’s face. The same knowing victory that’d come over him in Deirdru when he’d spied the Crest of Flames burning a declaration into the sky. 

Felix’s cry is lost in Byleth’s mouth. He’s certain his teeth clips her lip but he doesn’t taste blood, only the sweet wine she’d been drinking and the tangy bite of the Alymran fruit and … and –

He howls, back arching off the floor as Claude starts a bruising rhythm. A lock of hair falling over Claude’s eyes as he growls like an animal in heat, thrusting hard and deep, and Felix wails as the sweet spot inside him is tormented again and again. His entire body trembling like a bowstring on the very edge of release. His cock twitching, red and ruddy and dripping over Byleth’s fingers – 

The same strong dexterous digits that curved over the hilt of her sword grip tight and perfect over the crown, her other hand, callous roughened, sweeping over the head and then she’s gone - left him spiraling after her, gasping and torn, desperately wanting her close. 

Wanting them all close. Wanted to be drowned in them. Overwhelmed by their heat. By the inescapable burn. Feel it sear his skin and brand him theirs, sink beneath skin and bone and blood and sear away the cruel chills of Faerghus winter.

Thankfully she does not move away, her expression twisted with desire as she lays him down. He reads her movements, mouth already parting before her thighs are fully around his head. 

He wanted to lose himself in the thick murk of them. To surround himself in the sticky mess and drown himself in their presence until he scarcely knew his name. Knew even less of a kingdom beyond the mountain range.

He buries his face between Byleth’s thigh, moaning like a bitch in heat as he eats her out. Hungering for her. He strokes his tongue in her greedily, arms like a vice around her thighs. His own legs spread wide, offering no resistance to a golden king. 

Aching to be owned by them and know only them. 

He sucks at her clit, follows with sloppy strokes of his tongue, drinking in slick heat, delighted when her thighs start to tremble. He stifles a moan against her clit when her hands go rough in his locks. Felix’s entire body jerks as Claude’s pace changes to long hard strokes, one long drag out of him before breaking him open with a brutal accuracy that got to Felix like a hot poker.

Byleth yanks at Felix’s hair, hips following the motion as she drips against his tongue, her moans hitching higher and higher in her throat.

He sucks harder, stroking Byleth’s folds, laving his tongue over where she cursed and trembled over most, groaning as her hips jerk over him. Blearily, Felix is aware of Claude folding him in half. He glimpses Claude’s hands over her breasts, clever fingers tight over the pink nubs as she barks out a cry. Her orgasm shudders through her spine, thick and heady and _messy_ on Felix’s tongue, down his chin, over his throat. He laps at her like a starving man. A man caught in vice. Drowned on the taste of her cunt as an alcoholic on the finest wine, satisfied to remain buried in her forever.

His own orgasm trembles on the very tip as he drinks from the core of her. It draws up all around him, tingling in his fingertips, twisting in his belly, a thick heat stirring from the core of him and drawing higher and higher –

Felix swallows away a thick groan of protest as she pulls off him gaping after her as she cleans her fluids from his chin and offers it to Claude who dutifully cleans off her digits.

Between Felix’s legs, Claude’s rhythm goes brutal. His hands slapping hard against the back of Felix’s thighs as he shoves into him. 

“Look,” Claude tells him, a burning demand that strikes like a lance set flame.

“I’m looo – king,” Felix wails as Byleth grips him again, cock throbbing in Byleth’s hand as she strokes him.

Claude fucks faster and faster until Felix was delirious with need, pleasure so vast it swims over his head and chokes his cries. His orgasm looms over him, crashes over him, creeps over his skin, over his mouth, his throat, sticky with delicious need – 

He’s aware he’s wailing, clawing at the two of them, clinging tight as his entire body seizes. 

“My darling,” Claude hisses, the words mangled and too rough, spilling hot over his mouth as he shoves into him with a brutal thrust, burying himself to the very hilt. His fingers sink into Felix’s thighs, spreading him wide as Byleth holds his ankles, fucking into him, thick and long and wondrous even as oversensitivity set Felix aflame.

Felix still holds himself open. Wanting to be taken. To be held and cared for. To be shoved down and broken to pieces. To be fucked within an inch of his life, unable to do anything but cling, sinking nails into Claude’s dense shoulder blades as he arches back into Byleth’s chest, screaming as Claude’s rhythm crumbles at the edges and then shatters completely. Claude thrusts with wild abandon, snarling Felix’s name, the sound punctured by the lewd slap of hips against thigh, dampened by the wet squelch of oil and slick. Faster and faster until Claude buries a shout into Felix’s shoulder, hips punching forward once more as he comes with a deep boned satisfaction that shakes down his spine, cum pulsing hot and thick and _deep_ into Felix. Warming him from the core as if he weren’t already lost to the heat.

Dimly Felix is aware of the sun behind them. The bright burn of late afternoon as the rays go golden and fiery. Of the eagles and wyverns shrieking as they take off for their hunts. Of the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat and seed over his back and thighs. Of the burn on his skin, chest, and arms as late afternoon dredges up more heat. 

Knowing and not caring as he lunges for Byleth’s mouth, shuddering as Claude’s cock slips from his hole. Felix strokes his fingers through the rivulets of cum that streaks his thighs. 

Felix sees only them. Golden king and blessed Goddess. Reveling in the feel of all three of them, nestled together in a new home hidden away beyond dense mountains. 

“Your turn,” he whispers shakily against Byleth’s lips, heart pounding at the wicked smile that crosses her lips and delight in her eyes. 

Feels them grope and pull at him and goes eagerly. His face turned to the sun, crying pleasure beneath that desperate Almyran heat. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I gotta take a minute to write horny shit before getting back to the slow burn of Ties that Bind. Still working on the next chapter, also have a few oneshots planned for different pairings (i need the plot bunnies to chill for one second pls ;o; )


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